16. Alana
When Alana wokeup tangled up in Hudson’s arms, she was so tired her eyeballs hurt, as she hadn’t slept for shit the night before. Hudson, that glorious piece of shit, looked incredibly well-rested. She could hate him. She should.
“Good morning,” he rumbled, turning his sleepy gaze toward her. “How’d you sleep?”
“I didn’t,” she mumbled, wiggling to him, and snuggling into his sleep-warmed chest. “And you didn’t even snore.”
“I’m sorry?” he tried.
Alana nodded. “Why isn’t the sun outside yet?”
“It’s early.”
“Then why are you awake?” she asked. “It’s not like you have to go into an office today.”
“Force of habit.” Hudson started to draw circles on her back, his hand tucked beneath the tank top she had slept in.
She glanced at her chest. “Half my chest escaped.”
“How terrible,” Hudson deadpanned. “Whatever can we do?”
“Return it back to its rightful owner?”
“So, me?”
“You’re cute.”
“That really what you want to say to a guy who’s about to go down on you?”
Alana thought about it for half a second. “Yes,” she replied with a grin.
“Fair enough. I suppose eating you out is a cute activity.”
“You’re going to hell.”
“So are you,” Hudson replied, making finger hearts at her, before rolling her gently onto her back. “Want to be a princess or do you want to sit on my face?”
“The sun’s not awake yet, I’m not climbing anything.”
“I thought you might say that.”
“You know me so well.” Alana was absolutely not going to overthink that statement, because, quite frankly, it was none of her business.
Alana was at work, trying and failing to pretend like today was just a normal day. She was now wired on caffeine to a level that was probably a little dangerous for her health and would reflect poorly on any blood pressure tests the doctor would be giving her.
Shannon had texted her that morning. ‘I was going to send you a singing telegram or something equally horrifying, but I decided to wait until after I hear the good news. YOU GOT THIS, BESTIE. You and the hubs. We are all thinking the happiest of hysterectomy thoughts.’
‘I love you too,’ Alana had texted back. ‘And if a single human person talks to me before I leave the office I am going to scream and sic Hudson on them.’
‘Nice to know the husband has many uses,’ Shannon texted back. ‘And yes, the eyebrows are waggling in full force. I think I’m scaring the locals.’
‘That brings me joy. The eyebrow waggle scare part, specifically.’
‘Thank you for clarifying. Go terrorize some web developers. It will help take the edge off the caffeine.’
But terrorizing web developers (okay, she didn’t actually terrorize them) was not what balanced her very delicate nerves. It was a text from Sage, one of the baristas in the lobby, telling her that her man was down here waiting for her.
This is how you get hurt. She took that thought and shoved it into the deepest recesses of her brain.
She sent a quick text to Hudson, telling him she’d be down in a few, and finished shutting down her computer for the day.
After a quick stop in Patrick’s office to remind him she was leaving early and would be back tomorrow, she gathered her things, straightened her shoulders, and went downstairs to meet her husband.
He was waiting near the cafe, and he looked devastating. Dressed in what Matilda would have called Finance Bro But Not Gross, Hudson was wearing the same outfit as half of the men Alana shared the elevator with. And not one of those guys gave her hormones the run for their money the way Hudson did.
“Look at you,” Hudson said as Alana approached. “You look like a Stepford wife who’s slowly escaping the cult.”
“That is the weirdest compliment I have gotten in a while.” Alana reached up to kiss him quickly. “You look like her evil husband who will find out where she’s hiding and bring her back home and reprogram her. Or murder? I dunno.”
“I’m adding that to my acting resume,” Hudson said, twining his fingers through hers as they walked out of her office building.
“Since when do you have an acting resume? Since when do you act?”
“I don’t, but art school means that I’ve done a bunch of background work. I haven’t in a while, but the resume and reel and all that stuff still technically exist, even if they’re just molding on my laptop.”
“You are my favorite onion, Hudson Miller.”
Hudson shook his head. “Okay, Fiona.”
“I…”
“If you’re about to try and convince me that that was not just a Shrek reference, Lana, you can stop now. We both know it was.”
“I’m pleading the Fifth again.” Alana grinned, and then remembered what had happened the last time she did that.
Hudson leaned down and lowered his voice. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”
“Hudson, we’re in the middle of midtown, the least sexy place in all of New York,” Alana protested. “But also, no? But maybe yes. But mostly no. Not because what happened wasn’t great, it was?—”
“I would hope so, considering the number of repeats there have been.”
“But I think we need a new euphemism. Pleading the Fifth feels like a right-wing kink convention, and I do not want to have to think about that.”
Hudson shuddered. “Fair enough. We’ll have to think of something else.”
They walked down into the subway, and through the turnstiles. The last time they had been at this subway stop was for Syssla’s holiday party.
Wild, wasn’t it, how much things had changed since then. It was like living in a soap bubble, and all too soon, it would pop.
“You okay?” Hudson asked, squeezing her hand as they approached the platform.
“It’s just a lot.” All of it was. Every feeling she had ever experienced had decided to visit her again this morning. She was a pendulum of worry and relief and terror and gratitude. She wanted to unzip Hudson’s body and climb in and then zip it back up. What if Dr. Bradford still said no? What if he didn’t care that Alana was married? What if he just wanted to tell her husband that she couldn’t have a hysterectomy instead of her, because she was a lady and thus could not be trusted with her own medical decisions? What if he asked Hudson if he loved her?
Why would he do that, though? She was spiraling and she knew it. Dr. Bradford was about as likely to ask Hudson if he loved her as he was to have sex with Nurse Jennifer in front of them.
She looked over at Hudson, who was watching her with concern. She knew he was only here because this was what the whole marriage was for, but he was here. He was here and she didn’t know what she would have done if he wasn’t.
“We can do this.” Hudson wrapped his arm around her and tugged her close. “We’re gonna convince the doctor that we are the last two people on Earth who should be trusted with a child, and that you can have all the organs you want taken out. And then I’m going to text the group chat and tell everyone, and we’re probably gonna hear Shannon screaming from Montana.”
“And then?”
“And then I’m gonna text my mom, because she’s been worried about you,” Hudson said.
“Wait, you told your mom??” Alana began to panic.
“Not the marriage part. Only that you have a doctor’s appointment today and I’m going with you for moral support. Don’t worry. If I had told her we were married, there would be a Miller Family Intervention that would put JP’s to shame.”
“Does your mom also know marriage counselors?”
“Well, yes, but not that kind of intervention. The kind where we all would have to discuss our feelings and then I would apologize for not telling them sooner, and once I explained why, they would tell me they loved me and knew I would have only done something like that for a good reason, and then they would meet you and I would be the second favorite person in this marriage for the rest of my life. The highlighter of truth would absolutely be involved.”
The train thundered into the station.
“Wait, that’s really what would happen?” Alana asked as they got onto the train.
“Yes? I’m sure my siblings would also needle me about it forever, but that would basically be the breakdown.”
Alana blinked in shock. “Your family is so…healthy.”
Hudson shrugged. “I guess. They’re nice people. Deeply flawed people, because they’re human and stuff. But for the most part they’re nice.”
“Can we talk about that part?” Alana asked. “Because I met your mom and she seems great and not at all flawed, and also, I don’t want to have to just spiral and catastrophize until the appointment.”
“Of course.”
“Did you know that you are a very good husband?”
“I have heard rumors to that effect.”
Dr. Kevin Bradford was, once again, a middle-aged white man, who, not only was still definitely fucking his nurse, but had also whitened his teeth even further, if that was humanly possible. They were veering on the edge of glow in the dark, which Alana found concerning.
Was it good luck or bad luck that Nurse Jennifer showed Alana into the same room she had been in the last time she was here? She didn’t know, but the room was still just as sterile and depressing as it had been last time.
Alana looked at the hospital gown draped on the table and sighed. “I hate these things.”
“They are not the most comfortable or flattering,” Hudson agreed, sitting in the chair in the corner.
“And that’s for you, a man who doesn’t have to worry about having his chest get in the way and ruin the lines of the gown.”
“Babe, I don’t think whoever designed it thought deeply about the way the gown would fall on your body.”
“Well, maybe they should.” Alana took off her sweater and draped it on the table. She looked at Hudson, looked back at the table, shrugged internally, and took off her pants. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen her legs before.
Although not in fluorescent lighting.
Oh, well. She glanced down at her thighs, and noticed a small patch she had forgotten to shave. Of course.
Hudson was busy looking at his phone, and definitely didn’t notice the hairs she had forgotten. He also hadn’t said anything this morning, but then again, he had spent more time concentrating on places slightly further up on her body. And he’d done an incredible job concentrating. She shivered a little, just thinking about it.
Alana eyed the hospital gown again with distaste, sighed heavily, and took her bra off, which was exactly when Hudson looked up.
“I know this is probably profoundly inappropriate,” he said, “but suddenly I am feeling the urge to buy a doctor’s costume.”
“The kind with the velcro pull away pants?” Alana asked as she stuck her arms into the gown, knowing full well it wasn’t going to do shit to cover at least half of her body.
“If I tried to seduce you by wearing velcro pull away scrub pants, would it work?”
“Depends on how aroused you are,” she replied, and sat down on the table, wincing at the crackling of the paper. “And how quickly I can get distracted and forget you had just yanked off your pants like you’re in some musical theater production.”
There was a brisk knock on the door, and Nurse Jennifer was back, this time to take vitals. Shit was getting real.
Alana had said her affirmations, worn her lucky pearls, and had some truly magnificent orgasms, courtesy of Hudson, all before she left for work that morning. She thought happy thoughts, and reminded herself that there was always another way if she needed it, even while Nurse Jennifer tried to flirt with her husband while taking her vitals. Because she was the bigger person, Alana didn’t claw her eyes out, mostly because she was too busy clutching Hudson’s hand like it was the only thing that kept her physically floating into the ether from anxiety to reach toward Nurse Jennifer’s prissy face.
It wasn’t like the only thing keeping her tethered, she realized as he looked over at her, kissed her cheek, and tipped his phone toward her. He had pre-written the celebration message for the group chat.
He was the only thing keeping her tethered.
‘We’re gonna be okay,’ he mouthed.
‘Thanks,’ she responded, even though what she wanted to say was that she loved him.
She couldn’t love him. She couldn’t.
But Dr. Bradford was walking in, and so she was going to have to save this little internal meltdown for later.
“Mr. and Mrs. Bruckner,” Dr. Bradford said. “Nice to see you again, Mrs. Bruckner.”
Hudson reached a hand out. “Hudson Miller,” he introduced himself. “Great to meet you.”
Dr. Bradford shook his head. “Mr. Miller. A pleasure. I understand you were out of town at the last visit?”
Hudson nodded. “I was. I’m glad that the timing worked out for this appointment.”
“Glad you could make it, too.” Dr. Bradford settled in the chair that Hudson had evacuated. “Now, I understand that Mrs. Miller here is seeking a total hysterectomy as a method of managing her endometriosis. I see that you have gone through varying treatments to try to mitigate the worst of the symptoms, and they have thus far been unsuccessful.”
“Correct,” Alana said.
Hudson squeezed her hand. Once, twice, three times.
“And now you’re seeking a total hysterectomy.” Dr. Bradford looked at the screen in front of him. “Now, total hysterectomies are not reversible, Mrs. Miller. Not to mention the laundry list of potential side effects that you may have to experience.”
“I know,” Alana said. “I’ve done extensive research. But I’m willing to risk the side effects. I cannot risk not going through with this.”
“The reason I wanted you to have your husband here today was because I want to make sure that both of you have gone over all the alternative options before we move to this one.”
“We have discussed all of them,” Hudson replied evenly. “And a total hysterectomy, as Alana said, is what she has decided is the best treatment plan, given the circumstances, and I am one hundred percent behind her decision that she made.”
“If the two of you change your mind when it comes to children,” Dr. Bradford continued, “you could either go the IVF and surrogate route, or attempt adoption. Collecting viable eggs from you, Mrs. Miller, would delay the surgery for several months.”
Delay? Did that mean Dr. Bradford was giving her the okay? Was this going to actually happen?
“We do not have any interest in having any children,” Hudson said, “but thank you for clarifying the options we have.”
“I see. Just in case, I’m going to give you the information about a few fertility clinics and specialists. Life is a long time, and it can’t hurt to have contacts.” Dr. Bradford typed something into his computer. “Now, Mrs. Miller. I can give you a referral for surgery, and a list of potential surgeons who you can contact.”
Alana burst into tears.
Dr. Bradford was in the middle of talking about insurance options and stopped. He sighed and nudged the tissue box closer to her.
Hudson was holding her hand, eyes shining. “We got this, Lana,” he whispered.
They did.
After years of suffering, years of being gaslighted by friends and family and medical professionals, after the surgeries that confirmed the diagnosis, after trying everything she possibly could, after all of it…
“Sorry,” she sniffled.
Dr. Bradford smiled. “It’s okay. Now, Katya in the front will have further information. Once the surgery is set up, we’ll touch base on scheduling a follow up visit.”
“Thank you,” Alana managed.
Dr. Bradford nodded, told them to have a nice rest of their day, and walked out of the room.
“So was the hospital gown…” Hudson began.
“A power move? Probably.” Alana said in between sobs.
It was a good thing Hudson was there with her, because she wasn’t sure how she would have gotten dressed and left. In her wildest dreams, she hoped that this would be the answer, but now that it was here, she didn’t know how to act. How to feel. How to get dressed, apparently.
“Honey?” Hudson rubbed her shoulders. “Let’s get you back into your outside clothing so Katya can help you schedule things?”
Alana nodded. “Probably my tits shouldn’t be out in public.” She didn’t move.
Hudson helped her step into her pants, zipping them up and buttoning them for her. He kissed the smattering of freckles she had on her right shoulder, and put her bra on for her, cupping her gently before reaching to the back and hooking it shut.
“Wait, come back,” Alana protested as he went to get her sweater.
“I’m not going to feel you up in the doctor’s office.”
“You already did.”
“Lucky break.”
The rest of the time in the doctor’s office was a blur. Alana nodded and smiled her way through it all and refused to let go of Hudson’s hand.
The only thing she remembered was Hudson tilting the phone toward her, asking if he should send it, and her nodding, nodding, nodding.
And then they were on the sidewalk in front of the office, and Alana did not know what to do with herself.
What did a person do when their dreams finally came true?
Besides crying. Because apparently what Alana did was cry.
“I’m not normally this wet,” she sobbed as Hudson rocked her gently on the street corner, tucked under the overhang of an empty store front.
Hudson laughed.
“I didn’t mean it like that!”
“I know. I’ve heard you say that under different circumstances.” Hudson gently wiped a tear off Alana’s face. “Your mascara is pretty impressive, Lana. Your tears haven’t turned black yet.”
Alana sniffled. “I didn’t think I’d cry so much.” She reached into her purse, pulled out a handful of tissues, and tried to clean up her face as best she could. Her phone was buzzing. Shannon.
She tilted the phone to show Hudson, and then picked up.
Shannon was teary eyed and beaming. “Alanaaaaaa.”
Alana started crying all over again. “All the organs are still inside,” she wailed. “Why are we like this?”
“Because there’s a fucking light at the end of the fucking tunnel!!” Shannon paused. “This is my house, you asshole. If you don’t like the way I talk, you can fucking leave.” She faced the camera again. “Men. Always harshing the vibe. Not you, Hudson.”
Hudson shrugged. “I can harsh a vibe with the best of them.”
“Top quality husband,” Shannon said. “Award winning, even.”
“You have no idea,” Alana said.
Shannon waggled her eyebrows. “I’m going to want the full play-by-play when you get home,” she said. “But I just wanted to call and tell you I love you and I miss you and this is the best news I have heard all month.”
“Love you, Shanny.”
“Love you more, bitch. Call me later, okay?”
Alana nodded, and Shannon clicked off.
“I don’t even know what to do with myself,” Alana said, looking down at her phone, bewildered. “I just…what do I do now?”
“Breathe,” Hudson said.
“Doing that. What else?”
“How about we go home and then go from there?” Hudson offered.
“Home sounds good,” Alana replied.
Home did sound good.